


prescription

by isometric



Category: SHAKESPEARE William - Works, Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Unrequited Love, all canon pairings but not tagging them cuz I don’t wanna rain on shippers' parade, but more, but you still deal with it the best you can, more bittersweet?, sometimes you try your best and things don't work out exactly how you want them to, this isn't "no happy endings", vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-11-02 08:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isometric/pseuds/isometric
Summary: The bell at midnight takes away the glamour in the morning.(series of vignette, of five people, of what could have been)





	prescription

Olivia spends nights watching her husband. She watches his face, his breathing, finds new details every night to analyze.

Oh sure, of course she loves him. How could she not, when his looks are comparable to hers, his manners more charming than Orsino's? Even if he forgets to be kind sometimes, he loves her back, and that is more than enough. He gives her more than enough.

Still, there are no pretensions at night. Olivia thinks of Cesario, cannot help but keep vigil over Sebastian's sleep.

  


* * *

  
It takes Viola years to unlearn a few month's worth of pretence. She often catches herself walking with strong strides, or going over Orsino's affairs, or slipping into something loose around the torso. She tries her best, but for some reason it's hard to remember how to be more tactful, how to stay pleasant when displeased, that red or green is prettier on her than brown.

You are like a rose, Orsino tells her, beautiful and lovely. When she turns down the compliment, cheeks red, he begins to bring her flowers, every day a new one, to compare and reject in favour of her. Look at this primrose, he says, or this rosebud, this lilac, this crocus, this wisteria, this foxglove, they cannot compete with you, your beauty, your loveliness.

Viola learns to love flowers. She's always liked them, but now she appreciates their colours, scent and simplicity. They are creations she'd like even as a boy, she thinks. When she asks for different colours, Orsino falters, saying how they don't suit her as much, his voice strained.

Viola loves Orsino. She really does. She wants to make him happy. With her maids, she makes a catalogue of pink or purple flowers, learns their names, their shapes. She shares her work with Orsino, who gladly supplies her with samples, satisfied with her new interest. She falls in love with the hyacinth, with its friendly-starred flowers, its colour versatility, its bold venture into spring.

When she asks for a sprig of it, Orsino can't speak to her for a week.

  


* * *

  
Maria tries to remember why she married. Well, tries to remember what made it worth it. Their witty banter is no less witty nowadays, but they're not so much banter as two people trying to hurt the other through words alone. There's none of their previous light-heartedness.

He once tried to stop drinking, she remembers. He once went out, tried to make himself respectable by dignity, never mind his careless disregard for social status. He'd complimented her food, her sewing skill, how all of her was good, but nothing so good as her beautiful mind and beautiful wit. His clothes had once fit him.

He's since found one Aguecheek after another. He's since stopped trying. He can't quit drinking.

He still pays her compliments. Brings her ridiculous presents they can't afford. Finishes every single bite, even when she puts in too much salt or pepper out of spite. Does his best to be gentle with his clothes.

She does her best to find reasons to remain. Gives herself a new one every day. Forgives him when his drunken fumbling accidentally rips off another button.

  


* * *

  
Antonio gathers his things detachedly.

He's glad he's met Sebastian. He's glad he's had such a good friend. Antonio has always held deep pride in who he is, but Sebastian comes from a noble family, has noble looks and noble charms none can resist. That he's been accepted by such a, wonderful person, is—

You could stay, Sebastian doesn't say. 

I cannot repent of something I take pride in, he doesn't say in return. I wish you all the best, he does say. I think you will be happy even without me, he doesn't say. Sometimes, he doesn't think the 'even' either.

He leaves quietly during the revelry, when no one can notice his leaving. He meets Malvolio, ashen-faced and closed off, on the road out of Illyria. They don't speak. he knows Malvolio deserved the punishment, but not the humiliation, so he simply offers a fragile smile. They walk together.

At the sea, Antonio lets go of the note he'd written to explain everything he couldn't say. It flies off in the breeze, gets caught by the waves, and eventually dissolves into nothing. Antonio forces his eyes away.

  


* * *

  
Malvolio waits, which is uncharacteristic of him. But then everything he is doing is uncharacteristic. Swallowing his pride. Swallowing his hurt.

Antonio finally turns away from the water, and they resume walking. Malvolio doesn't know where they're going; decides he'll trust Antonio does.

He can walk further now that he's lost the dignified, controlled gait. This too he swallows down, like bitter medicine. Tries to take hope from the meaning of it. They walk and walk, till the sun rises in front of them, bright, blazing, and he hopes one day, he'll reach somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this instead of theatre class assignment because I didn't like the male leads and how they treated their love interests. Also because I felt that the female characters deserved better than the guys they got.
> 
> And then we watched the 1996 film adaptation in class and the way it portrayed Feste's prank was.....nauseating. Wasn't as bad in the actual play, but no one in the class had a problem with the film version, so......vent fic.
> 
> Antonio being there is kind of a reach but 1) there was no resolution or happy ending for him, and 2) I really don't think Seb has the awareness+maturity to give him either.


End file.
